


Day 15 : Jingle Bells

by TT40_Angst_Queen



Series: My NCIS Holiday Themes 2017 [15]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Cute Kids, Fluff, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 00:27:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13019400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TT40_Angst_Queen/pseuds/TT40_Angst_Queen
Summary: Tony is reminded of the meaning of Christmas when he is faced with the sad reality for some people during the Holidays.





	Day 15 : Jingle Bells

“Tony’s been practically skipping lately, have you noticed that?” Tony heard Bishop ‘whisper’ to Tim, and the senior field agent tuned into their ‘whispered’ gossip. They really were bad at trying to whisper, especially since he was less then four feet away- even if they did whisper well, he would still be able to hear them. 

 

“I know what you mean, It’s like he’s constantly happy,” McGee snorted. “Hell, he’s making Abby look depressing in comparison lately.” Tony saw Bishop nod out of the corner of his eye, and he didn’t need to look to feel their eyes boring into him. 

 

“I know! I bet even Gibbs’ best glare wouldn’t upset him right now, and it’s been a week.” 

 

“What do you think, abducted by aliens?” Bishop shook her head, and Tony fought the urge to laugh.

 

“I was thinking alien clone, maybe even  _ The Flesh-  _ a  _ Ganger _ ?” 

 

“Nice, Doctor Who reference.”

 

“Thank you,” Bishop demurred, and Tony couldn’t help himself any longer.  

 

“Nice guesses, McConspiracy, but incorrect, I’m afraid,” Tony grinned, and they both looked at him with wide eyes.

 

“Then what’s going on, Tony?” Bishop pled, and Tim nodded along.

 

“Spill, Tony.” Tim agreed, and Tony made a show of thinking about it, even though he already planned to tell them after hearing them gossip. 

 

“You know how I told you guys that my favorite Christmas movie is  _ It’s a Wonderful Life _ ?” Tony saw Tim roll his eyes, with a twinkle of humor in them, and Bishop nodded excitedly. 

 

“Well, I can’t find the copy my mom gave me years ago after we watched it last Christmas, when Senior visited. So I started sending feelers out for copies that aren’t just burned off the internet,” Tony shuddered, and Tim, knowing what Tony was talking about, grimaced with him. “Bad quality-anyways, a couple weeks ago they announced that for one night only, they’re selling a limited edition, original version copy of the movie along with a copy of the signed script and a collectors box, this weekend,” Tony beamed. “My car is in the shop, and I can’t buy a cab ride without using the money I need for the movie, so Gibbs agreed to drive me.”

 

“Well, right now I’m driving you to a crime scene, DiNozzo, let’s go people!”

 

“On your six, Boss!”

 

* * *

 

 

Saturday night found Gibbs and Tony pulling up to the shop, and Tony found himself unsurprised that there wasn’t a line up, it wasn’t the most popular movie, after all. It was probably better that way, anyways.  

 

“I’ll wait out here, DiNozzo, go get your movie.” Tony nodded, practically vibrating with excitement.

 

“Ok, Boss, be right back!”  

 

Tony left Gibbs reading in the car, and walked into the store, focusing on nothing else but the doors between him and memories of his mother. 

 

After buying the DVD, Tony walked out of the store, pausing just outside, looking over his purchase. 

 

This movie was something filled with memories of his mother, and it was worth the high price tag of 200 dollars to get it, leaving him another 200 for that tie he wanted, luckily, he had already paid his bills for the month. Even looking at it, he could almost smell his mother's lavender perfume, and he smiled softly. He missed her.

 

The sound of jingle bells made him turn to the left, and he cocked his head and stared at the sight before him.

 

On the corner of the bustling city street, shivering in the falling December snow and threadbare clothes, sat a young couple and their daughter holding a bag of Jingle bells, a handmade sign that read  _ “Jingle Bells for Sale” _

 

The small family looked thin and cold, the daughter looking healthier and warmer then her parents, and Tony noticed absently that they had given her their coats. They didn’t look like they were living on the streets, but it looked like they couldn’t really afford a decent meal, and with homelessness in DC at on all time high, soup kitchens tended to be full and out of food more often than not lately. 

 

Tony watched as the little girl held out a set of jingle bells, the ringing of the bells almost swallowed by the sound of cars. Tony watched with slowly darkening eyes as person after person passed the shivering, desperate family, too entrenched in their own lives to pay any attention to the starving group. Tony saw unshed tears in the eyes of the parents as they watched their child try and try again to sell the bells to uninterested passerby. He watched as the little girl continued smiling, undaunted in her efforts to sell the Jingle bells, even though the stretched bones along her cheekbones showed that she should be hungry and crying, like any child would be at that point.  

 

Tony’s observations took only a few moments, and looking down at his purchase, and thinking of the tie, then back at the starving family, he made a decision, and walked back into the store.

 

Coming back out minutes later, Tony made his way over to the family, and smiled gently at the little girls parents when they stared at him with wary eyes.

 

“Hi mista’, would you like ta’ buy some jingle bells?” The little girl looked up at him with a large smile, showing her missing two front teeth and sparkling blue eyes, her blond curls dotted with snow.

 

“What’s your name, little one?” Tony asked, after asking the girls permission to talk to her with a look, getting a hesitant nod in return. 

 

“Ma’ name’s Marie Carroll, Mista’, afta’ ma’ nana!” Tony laughed, and kneeled down, reaching out a hand for a shake, his hand enveloping the tiny girls hand in his mits, noticing her own were hand stitched and made from what looked like several different patchy fabric, and his heart twinged.

 

“My name’s Anthony DiNozzo, after my father, but everyone calls me Tony, Miss Marie,” The little girl giggled, and Tony grinned. “I see you’re selling some jingle bells, Miss Marie,” Tony didn’t miss the flashes of hope that passed through the parents eyes, before it was replaced with warieness again. 

 

“Yes, Mista’ Tony, Only fifty cents a piece!” Tony felt his heart break; Fifty cents a piece? How was that supposed to feed a family of three? Even if they sold the whole bag, it looked like they would only make about twenty five dollars, not even enough to feed one person these days, let alone a family at Christmas. 

 

“Yeah?” Tony cast a look at the couple, and he felt even more determined with his decision. “Well, I’d like to buy all of them, how about that?” The family of three looked at him in shock, and the parents snapped out of it first, but it was the daughter that spoke. 

 

“Really? Mamma!” the mom gently grasped her daughters shoulder, and pulled her to the bench telling her to sit, before the parents looked at him.

 

“Sir, are you sure-” Tony nodded, and brought out his wallet, emptying it of it’s four hundred dollars of fun money, and handed it to the parents, and watched as they gasped in shock at the amount.

 

“Mr. DiNozzo, we can’t accept this, it’s way too much!” the father choked, and the mother was still stiff with shock. 

 

“Look,” Tony looked down at the ground. “I’m a federal agent, and I’ve seen a lot in my line of work.” The mother had snapped out of her shock, and both mom and dad were listening to his words, while still paying attention to their child who was counting out the math of the jingle bells.

 

“I’ve helped a lot of people, and I’ve also hurt some along the way, unintentionally. But I remember what it’s like being twelve years old and hungry after being kicked out and disowned,” Tony ignored the looks of sadness that the parents gave him. “I had to do things I’m not proud of in order to feed myself,” now the parents look horrified, and Tony grimaced. “And I put myself through college doing the same things. Back then, I would have gave anything for someone to just give me some help to feed me,” and, Tony guessed, he really had given anything, but it wasn’t out of kindness that the people gave him money. “And now that I’m older, and I can feed myself without a worry, I still remember what it was like, and I want to help your little girl get the Christmas I didn’t get to have at her age.”

 

With plenty of thanks and more than a few tears, Tony walked back to the car. 

 

Gibbs had to have noticed Tony’s lack of movie, but the younger man was thankful he didn’t say a word. 

  
  


* * *

 

 

Christmas eve morning, Tony woke up to a knock on his door, and found nobody there, only a solitary package wrapped in red paper. Looking at the card, he read the words, noticing Gibbs’ familiar scrawl.

 

_ DiNozzo, _

 

_ Merry Christmas, I expect you over tonight for the next two days, bring beer and steak. And not that imported crap. _

 

 

_\- Gibbs_

 

 

Opening the package, Tony felt his eyes pricking with tears. 

 

It was the movie he had returned last week, and a set of Jingle bells. 

 


End file.
